My Strange Stories IV

August 6th, 2010

The man and the young lady trotted as fast as their horses could. The man mumbled to Alice to be careful and to expect some future ambush.

The gallop and the speed of the escape made Alice plunged of the horse and hurt her leg with a stone. For a moment she thought she will be desert by him because the horse run away, but Christopher was a brought up man. He stopped and returned for her, although guards were behind them. Using a strong pole she could stand up and gripped the hand Christopher offered to her.

Guards took aim to them but he was faster and the shout killed a near deer. A beautiful and dangerous red blaze refulged through the trees when a fire’s arrow was threw as a last desperated guards attempt of catching them, but they escaped, and now they are far, far away.

My strange stories III

June 4th, 2010

“Without words”

The clock struck twelve and the ballroom began to be quite empty. The orchestra, musicians and singer leave the room and everybody in the room said goodbye to each other, except the fiddler. He was waiting for her.

When she entered, he jawed. She was wonderful. Her blue eyes shone in her white skin and it two refulged in her red robe. He thought he doesn’t deserve her, she thought he could fade in any moment.
“– a-ah –…” He tried to say something with a tremor voice. He was imagining in his mind praising her. Saying how beautiful was her eyes, how magnificent her appearance was, how lovely se was…
She went near to him and he could see the sweetest glance in her eyes. She was thinking and feeling the same than him. Since the sky Cupid wept, coddling his perfect work. She looked at him and felt herself as the most fortunate girl for having, in front, such a perfect being.

It wasn’t necessary words. The silence was the language of their hearts and their glances, the most beautiful words you could imagine. He was weak. He couldn’t resist and embraced her as if he would never let her go. She felt the warmest sensation inside her, because he didn’t hugged her body, but her soul.
After many minutes which seemed as a second they went out to the night, but they weren’t cold. Their hug had warmed completely their beings. The hand which was supporting her hand made her feel protected, and the hand which was accepting his hand brought happiness to him.

The mist wrapped both making them feel welfare, the constant sensation they could feel beside all what they were feeling. Beneath the pale radiance of the moon he promised to keep her in a metal safe forever, on his heart; and she promised to love him until death and beyond. And again, Cupid wept.

"...Porque sé que al final de todo lo único que pasará es que será un poco más frío."

Me gustaría tomarte en mis brazos y salir corriendo. O tomar tu mano y decirte "ven conmigo" Pero no puedo y lo sabes. No. Ya sé lo que quiero. Quiero tomar tu cabeza y estrellarla contra una pared. Golpear tu rostro hasta hacerte sangrar... para ver si sientes dolor. Para que te des cuenta de lo que significa estar vivo... estar despierto...

Me pregunto que pasará en un futuro. Cuando despiertes y tu piel esté curtida de arrugas, te mires al espejo y te odies más a ti misma... ¿Despertarás al fin? ¿Será, tal vez, demasiado tarde?

No soy superman pero no hay duda de que me encantaría serlo. No puedo.

¿Y si ya nunca despertaras? ¿Qué se sentiría que tú...? Cuando pienso en ello no me acongojo, tan solo... ¿siento alivio? No. No creo que el alivio brinde tanta preocupación, pero ¿no sería esa la solución que estás buscando? ¿el camino que estás escogiendo en este momento?

Hay una imágen dentro de mi mente: Yo, muda, viéndote; o más bien, viendo lo que quedó de ti en aquella caja de madera con una ventana de vidrio. Con tristeza en la mirada pero sin dolor en el corazón ¿o si? Creo más bien, que es un dolor que no puede ser expresado de forma distinta a esa... haciendo nada. No quiero verte así. Pero mi mente sigue pensando en la posibilidad y algo dentro de mi me dice que no debo preocuparme porque sé que al final de todo lo único que pasará es que será un poco más frío.

Lo siento. Sólo tú puedes salvarte, aunque no quieras.

My Strange Stories II

May 28th, 2010

“Wrath”

And there was he. In his cell trembling of cold, looking the thick fog and regretting what he did.

“He was my friend. I can’t believe what I did only for wrath, envy, ambition. Only for a barrel of wine and a woolen jacket…” He shocked his head trying not to think about that.

Every time when he let his mind think about that he felt as boiled as a potato. It made him absolutely unhappy and extremely misery. Also guilty.

Every down, when he opened his eyes, he begged it was a lie. He begged, in his mind, for other fate. He shall be tolerant and wait. No. He must. He must wait for an explanation of him, but he didn’t wait. He must avoid the bad comments others said about his friend. He should have understood that they only wanted to poke the fire between the two.

There was only one phrase said, “He’s deceiving you.” And the little spark turned in a gigantic bonfire. And the evasions of his friend added coal to it.

“- Humbug! –muttered him frowning –you’re such a liar and you will pay it to me!”

Certainly, if he would have held his temper, nothing would have happened. But unfortunately he was not that kind of person. And he will never be. Not anymore.

My Strange Stories I

October 26^th, 2009

Are you alone?

Are you afraid?

Are you falling down?

The puzzle of your life is falling apart?

You saw him go

You smelled the fear in the air

You tasted the flavor of the pain

And what can you do?

Can you repair something of your world?

If you can’t do anything,

Then it means you’re a useless piece of these

Complicated Chess called life.

Are you sure you

Be worth the trouble?

You’re an empty body

A body without soul

Your soul was stolen by your fears.

Loneliness, sadness, misery…

You’re now in the cold dark

But it is your fault.

Only your fault.

Did you trust in someone?

Someone defrauded you?

Now you are alone,

Alone in the cold night.

You are a coward.

You are a corpse of the thing you were before.

Are you afraid to let anyone else in?

Are you afraid of being hurt?

You will be hurt because you are afraid.

These is the true,

The only true.

You will be alone because you want to be alone.

You will be sad because you are afraid.

Your fears are consuming inside you

But you can’t do anything

For one simple reason…

You are afraid.

En Resumidas Cuentas

Junio 10, 2011

Desearía tan solo poder decir algo distinto a esto. No sé qué pasa, sólo sé cómo me siento, cómo te siento ahora… y duele.

Esa tarde está grabada en mi mente. Tu mirada, cada frase que dijiste… -sí, estoy de dramática –cómo me mirabas, como si supieras el final de la historia pero aún tuvieses la mínima esperanza de poder cambiarlo. Yo creía que podrías. Sinceramente lo creía. Tenía fe en ello. Era mi esperanza.

¿Por qué ahora? ¿Por qué de nuevo? ¡No lo sé! Sólo sé que me duele. Sólo sé que recuerdo una y otra vez, una y otra vez… “Tengo miedo…”

Desearía poder haber hecho algo más… desearía que las cosas hubiesen sido diferentes, que mi presente fuera un poco más cálido, que fuera un presente rodeado por un bonito verano. ¿Entiendes?

A veces pienso que sería mejor dejarte ir, de una vez por todas. Te ahorraría unos cuantos pensamientos tristes –tal vez, ya no lo sé –pero simplemente no puedo. ¿Sería mejor el olvido? Sé que te duele también –Eso creo. Eso creía saber –por eso sería mejor el olvido, ¿no crees? ¿Te mortifica tanto como para alejar todo lo que te traiga recuerdos? ¿O simplemente soy yo delirando?

Es tan distinto ahora, ¿no? Pero yo te quiero igual – ¿tú también? – por eso duele. No sé nada. No sé qué es mejor o peor, para ti o para mí. Sólo sé tres cosas:

1. Te quiero

2. Te extraño

3. Ambas estamos esperando algo… ¿Ya sabes qué esperas tú?

En este momento...

¿Recuerdas lo de los pies? Tal parece que aquellos pies no quieren terminar su danza contigo... me pregunto cuánto tiempo durará..., pero no importa. De cierto modo, que aquellos pies conserven aquel deseo, me hace feliz. Y no es por ser melodramática, pero puede que con esta decisión compliquemos más las cosas y se derramen muchas más lágrimas. Puede que, es una posibilidad. O puede que sea la decisión correcta y que logremos reparar algo de lo que se rompió en el transcurso del tiempo... Puede que.

No quiero ser pesimista -estoy tratando de cambiar :) -así que por el momento me contentaré con esta pequeña -y extraña- felicidad. Es mejor mirar las cosas desde su punto bueno. No asustarme por algo que puede que pase, hasta que lo haga... es la mejor decisión, creo.

Por el momento, estoy tratando de recuperar lo que creí perdido...

Por el momento, puede que sea feliz...